The Small Strokes in the Big Picture
by NexusTehULF0o
Summary: The point was, they were in love – constantly proven by the little, everyday things done together. B/B. Collection of oneshots.
1. That Certain Feeling

**Title: The Small Strokes in the Big Picture**

**Author: NexustehULF0o**

**Description: The point was, they were in love – constantly proven by the little, everyday things done together. B/B. However-many-I-feel-like-writing-shot. **

**Rating: T. Mature themes. You'll see.

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BONES. I love it though. More than anyone should ever love a TV Show. Really.

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**Nexus: FILL THE VOID FILL THE VOID FILL THE VOID**** I only have to last until the end of September. If I just keep telling myself that, I'll be okay…right? Right? * rocks back and forth *

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**Chapter I: That Certain Feeling...  
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"The central and lateral incisors in both maxillary and mandibular forms have taken brutal damage, the cause very well being a medium-to-large-sized projectile striking the victim in the mouth. Several teeth, including adult molars, have been cracked or moved." Temperance Brennan pushed a stray lock of chestnut hair behind her ear as she examined another murder victim, wiggling a cracked and loose tooth near the front of the mouth before standing erect. She clicked the button on the small recording device again, bringing her mouth remotely close to the microphone. "The wounds to the lower jaw almost directly match the wounds found near the lumbar region, suggesting that the victim may have been repeatedly stricken with a baseball bat or a large metal pole."

Brennan placed the recorded on the autopsy table in front of her, carefully removing her rubber gloves and disposing them into the trash receptacle. Eyes downward as if to turn around and grab the recorder once more, she was instead greeted by a flamboyant red tie against a black, FBI standard-issue suit. She looked up, outwardly unsurprised, even if her heart _had _skipped a crucial beat.

"Hey, Bones!" A familiar voice called warmly, causing her to smile without thinking. "Thought I'd find you here."

She reached around him, and he slightly moved out of the way for her, grabbing her recorder before locking eyes with her partner, one Seeley Booth.

"I like to keep everything in a case on record, so I was making a tape of the murder victims injuries – the autopsy was conducted earlier today, but I wanted to make sure all of my findings matched what was found earlier." She turned to shut off the computer behind her.

"And…?" Her partner held out the 'an', leaving her slightly, but playfully annoyed.

"And…everything is in order." She turned to him once more at the monitor shut itself off. "Nothing went unnoticed. Nor did I miss anything mentioned in the report."

"We have any direction as to finding this guy?" Booth asked, turning to stare at the body for a moment before grimacing and looking away.

"Not at the moment, no." Brennan replied, quickly taking a look at her watch. 8:32 PM. "But the bag the body was found in has been dusted for fingerprints – Angela should have the results by tomorrow afternoon, if not tomorrow morning."

"Ah…" Booth stuck a hand into his pocket, and, upon noticing Brennan walking toward her office, took one last uncomfortable look at the skeleton on the table before following after her.

"So…" Booth casually stepped into Brennan's office, where she was filing the autopsy paperwork at her desk. "I've got Parker for the weekend this weekend and we're going to see a hockey game!" Booth's mention of the hockey game was somewhat singsong, and he did a odd sort of dance corresponding with the words.

"Oh, that's great!" His partner looked up, smiling genuinely (he loved her smiles best because she didn't see the merits nor the logic of faking one) and placing a manila folder into a larger pile of them on her desk. That looked to be the end of her sentence until he could see the look on her face change accordingly – in this case, she was about to rattle off a fact.

"The human race is one of the only known species to bond with their male young. Most males will kill the male young when they are still very small, thus avoiding potential threats to the clan or group leader. " She smiled. "It'd be such a shame if you ended up killing Parker because he was a threat to your position as an FBI Agent. He really is such a nice kid…" The woman trailed off, returning to her work.

Booth simply nodded, a weak, confused smile on his face.

"Uh, you know, you're welcome to come, if don't have anything going on Saturday night…I mean, I can get another ticket…" He offered, almost completely unaware of what that might have sounded like to anyone else.

"Oh, I couldn't. Parker needs to spend time with you – you're his father. Having me there would only confuse him as to - " She began, tapping her pen on the desk.

"You give Parker too little credit, Bones." Booth chuckled, leaning against the couch Brennan had in her office. "You know he'd love to have you there."

Brennan sat still for a moment, mulling it over. Hockey was a primal sport, something men would be more interested in than a woman ever would...However, this would be a good anthropological study in modern American culture – how men still rely on primal instinct despite the human brain's adaptations and reworking over a long period of time.

Not to mention Booth would be there. And she hadn't seen Parker in a long while – not since Booth had last brought him in due to the unusual hours Rebecca had scheduled for him to bond with his father. That was a while ago…possibly six months? He would have grown at least a little bit since then. She smiled.

"All right. I'll go." She nodded, watching Booth's grin extend from ear to ear. "But please, I'll pay my own way."

"Great!" He exclaimed, clapping once before rubbing his hands together before leaning back against the chair once more. Brennan smiled in return, before returning to her work once more.

A long silence ensued afterward, each one of them too preoccupied to talk. Brennan sat dutifully at her desk, tapping her pen against her bottom lip while occasionally scratching a sidenote onto one of the papers, then repeating the whole process. On occasion, she would fold the manila folder closed and grab a new one, opening before continuing to scribble sidenotes.

Booth on the other hand, had delved deep into thought, placing one hand across his chest, the other lifted so his index finger tapped upon his nose in a rhythmic pattern. His brow furrowed as he continued to think, adjusting his leg so it crossed the other.

If one looked close enough, they could see their eyes occasionally shift to the other, unsure of the silence. They would stare for a moment, and then return to their own business – they never locked eyes.

The long silence continued to divide them until Booth shifted his weight onto his other foot, causing Brennan to jump.

Booth chuckled, but didn't mention it as she looked up at him for a moment before returning to her paperwork for what seemed like the billionth time.

"Hey, listen, Bones." Booth began, taking his finger away from his face and looking up at her. She looked up again, not quite annoyed, but not exactly ecstatic about being interrupted either. He grinned awkwardly.

"I'm probably asking the wrong person, but…you ever feel like, your heart's kind of…tightening in your chest, and you feel like you're struggling to breathe –"

Temperance stared at him for a moment as he trailed of into silence, a bit unsure of what he was asking. What a trivial question! Why would he pose a question like that at a time like this…?

He stared at her genuinely, almost a longing, curious look in his eyes. She was unsure as to why.

"Well…I can only imagine that everyone has that feeling…I suppose it can only be explained by the abnormal level of –"

"Wait, wait." Booth, looking up suddenly. He smirked crookedly at her. "You've…this has happened to you before?"

"Well, yes. It has. More often as of late, I'm afraid…" Brennan began, standing from her seat while still looking down at the files at her desk. "Well…the first moment I remember feeling it distinctly was the moment I saw one of your girlfriends…Tessa, I think it was?...in one of your work shirts. It wasn't very prominent then, but I remember it as essentially what you've just described. I encountered shortness of breath as well as the 'chest-tightening' you talked about, as well as some other symptoms. Recently, though, it's been increasing in frequency and intensity, which has me immensely worried for my general health…" She trailed off, placing a hand to her heart while speaking the last few words. Suddenly, she looked up at Booth, their eyes meaningfully intertwining.

"Why? I haven't been acting differently, have I? – I don't know the symptoms of this, nor have I ever had a victim that dealt with such a problem…I have been meaning to contact a doctor…"

Booth folded his arms and simply laughed. "Bones." He smirked knowingly at her. "Why don't you go and clean up to bones on the table out there and you and me go pick up some Thai food?"

"Booth!" Her voice semi-scolded him as she placed her hands on her hips. "This is no time to be thinking about food! I feel my health is at risk here, and - "

"I don't think you have anything to worry about." He told her. "In fact, I've experienced it before, too."

"You have?" She asked, genuinely intrigued.

He nodded.

"You know, I'd trust a cardiologist's decision before I'd trust yours, Booth." She tilted her head a little bit, adjusting her hair.

He gestured to himself. "Why bother?" You've got yourself a survivor right here."

She stared at him oddly, similar to when she was examining bones. "Does it fade over time? What are its general lasting periods?"

"Well…" He put his arm around her shoulders as she moved toward her office door. "It never truly goes away, but I think you'll really get used to the feeling after a while…"

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**Nexus: Well, there's your first chapter! How'd you like it? :D R&R, if you would. **


	2. So Close, but Still So Far

**Title: The Small Strokes in the Big Picture**

**Author: NexustehULF0o

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BONES. It is SUCH a good show, that if I owned it, I think I would die.

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**Nexus: PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING ON. So, my friend Summer (Sumshine904 on ) really REALLY wanted me to write this chapter. Like, so badly, she pestered me and pestered me and PESTERED ME. We talked about it for DAYS. Anyway, it's a little…hopeful stuff…I'm gonna call this one a T+ due to its suggestive theme. Nothing happens, but they get pretty darn close. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and LOL PROMISE ME YOU'LL READ ALL OF IT. It's just…hilarious. Well, you'll see.

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**Chapter Two: So Close, but Still So Far…**

"But Daddy~! I don't wanna go to bed! Can't I stay up past my bed time just this once…?" Parker Booth whined, balling his hands into fists at his sides while looking pleadingly up at his father. The 6-year-old took a moment to adjust his Spiderman pajamas before returning his gaze up to the much taller FBI agent, who just crouched down to eye –level with the boy.

"`Fraid not, Park. You need your sleep because Mommy wants you early in the morning tomorrow to go have breakfast with her and Paul." Seeley Booth explained, placing a hand on the boy's tiny shoulder.

"But I wanna stay up with you and Doctor Bones!" Parker looked past Seeley to stare longingly at his father's partner, who was leisurely seated on the couch, resting a beer on her lower thigh.

"Parker, Bones isn't staying for too much longer. She'll be going home right after you go to bed." Booth told him, cocking his head to the side a little bit.

"I don't care." Parker retaliated. "I don't wanna go to bed!"

"Too bad!" Booth stood up, picking his reluctant son up with him. "Come on, I'll even read you a story."

"…The Batman story…?" Parker spoke, pouting.

"Sure."

The Booths disappeared into the other room, leaving his partner alone with the TV nonsense blaring in the background. She didn't understand what made Booth such a good father, but he was. And she wanted that for her own. And if not Booth's love itself, she wanted to replicate that love for her child. That was, if she ever had any children...

Brennan slowly lifted the mouth of the bottle to her lips, taking another sip of the beer that Booth had offering her only moments ago. She obviously was not leaving like he had told his son – she had only just arrived maybe an hour ago to discuss the loose ends of a case they were finishing, and Booth was too responsible of a person to allow her to drive home after drinking at all. He would offer for her to sleep on the couch or to pay for a cab that would take her home. Considering the hour, she thought as she looked at the clock on his stovetop oven, probably the former.

"All right, buddy. Good night. I love you."

Booth reappeared into the living room, turning around and switching off Parker's bedroom light before closing the door until all one could see was a dark sliver of the room behind it.

The FBI agent chuckled before taking a seat next to his partner, habitually resting his arm around her shoulders.

"He's an antsy one, that kid." He joked, smirking Brennan's way. She smiled for him, crossing her legs.

"Yes." Was all she said.

The night continued on uneventfully, Booth and Brennan chatting and gossiping affectionately about their co-workers and their own personal lives, the topic drifting to murder cases once in a while. The spoke about their time spent away from each other, and how it was so different from the world they'd recently returned to. She spoke of bodies she'd uncovered after many years of burial, and she spoke of bodies they'd been forced to recently bury in the ground. And, after there felt like nothing really left to talk about, they sat in silence. Simply enjoying the other's company.

"I think it's quite refreshing that he states his independence at such a young age. He largely resembles you, Booth." Brennan stated suddenly.

"Who?"

"Parker."

"Oh. Yeah?" Booth asked, cocking his head a little bit for her too.

"Well, the similarities are obvious, if you notice. You're both quite rebellious in nature, stubborn, but, at the core, you are both very sweet, loving people. I think that Parker will grow up to be a quite handsome, caring young man." Brennan explained while looking down at her drink. She could escape the small lump rising in her throat as well as the heat rising to her cheeks. "Just like this father."

Booth smiled and watched his partner, smiling when she glanced up at him and then looked away bashfully.

"Bones." He half-breathed, his smile next to fading when she locked eyes with him. "You really think so?"

Without thinking, he leaned closer, as they always did when they needed to "discuss things privately".

Bones stifled a laugh, watching his mouth for a few seconds longer than she should have. Her eyes then found their way to his once more.

"I do." She answered in a light, airy whisper, narrowing the empty space between their faces to mere millimeters. "And, like his father, Parker will one day meet a woman that…without realizing it…" She stopped momentarily, doubting herself for a split second before moving onward. "…Has fallen irrevocably in love with him, whether or not she allowed herself to."

Booth's eyes widened when she spoke those words, drawing in a much-needed breath through his mouth.

"Bones –" he began in a hoarse whisper.

She closed the gap between them, silencing her partner from saying anything else.

Booth was instantly tossed into a state of irresponsive euphoria – the time he usually would spend thinking about what he felt during a kiss was now used drawing her close, cupping her face with his palm. In the recesses of his subconscious, he thought about worrying that something just fell to the floor with a hollow _thonk_, but disregarded it when Brennan wrapped both hands around his neck, desperate for more.

He happily complied.

She pushed herself onto him, his head falling backwards onto the arm of the couch. Booth's hands snaked around her waist after she made herself comfortable straddling him.

"Bones…Temperance." He whispered breathlessly, breaking their lips for a split second to gasp for air.

"Mmmh…?" He heard her muffled reply.

"We shouldn't be doing this." He told her. "We can't – we won't be able to be partners anymore."

"Then," She breathed into his ear. "I don't see the logical reasoning in letting anyone else know."

There was a silence for a moment.

"You're a genius." He told her, chuckling under his breath.

"I know." She replied, her satisfied smile showing through her tone.

She pressed her lips to his once more, the both of them continuing on heedlessly – touching, tasting, exploring, until they both were struggling to breathe.

And so they both sat there, heaving in air, reaching deep into each other's eyes like it was the only think they knew how to do.

"Bones. I - I love you." He told her, leaning in to rest his head against her shoulder. He slowly closed his eyes while drawing in a large breath, the jasmine scent of her hair wafting into his nostrils.

"I…love you too." She replied softly.

They lay there a minute, attempting to catch their breath and continue, but content with remaining the way they were in the same instant.

It was like a dream come true, he thought. He almost thought this day would never come. And now that it had, he couldn't believe it. She was his. _His _Bones. And he would never let her belong to anyone else.

Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered open once more, leaning his head against the armrest once more.

She was holding onto his belt buckle with one hand and watching him suggestively.

In one night, their relationship had escalated twofold. Possibly three.

"Parker." He muttered, looking over at his son's room.

"Your room is down the hall." She answered. "If we keep the door closed, we shouldn't wake him."

He slipped himself out from underneath her and carefully lifted her into his arms. She wrapped his arms around his neck once more, and, trying not to make it seem like he was rushing, carried her into his room, closing the door behind him using his foot. He lowered her onto his bed before positioning himself above her before she dragged his face downward to kiss her once more - the kiss became more and more passionate as time seemed to drone on. She reached down, grabbing his belt buckle and undoing the fastener hurriedly before ripping it out of the loops and throwing it off the bed.

Her fingers searched eagerly for the button of his pants…he couldn't help but smile underneath her mouth.

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He flinched as her cold hands touched his bare chest, her smooth fingers tracing the curves of his pectorals…

She smiled up at him.

"Booth." She whispered.

"Bones." He retaliated without missing a beat, caressing the side of her face softly.

She lifted her face to brush a fleeting kiss against his lips, and he wrapped his hands around her back, pressing her chest to his. He let out a contented sigh, letting his eyes slide closed once more...

He barely noticed the door quickly creak open, but when the light switched on and he was still holding Brennan in his arms, his eyes shot open.

"Daddy," a voice called loudly. "I can't sleep. Can I have a glass of warm mi –"

The six-year-old's words faded into silence. Bones' head turned to watch Booth's son as his expression grew perplexed, eyeing the two's less-than-PG position.

Booth rolled over onto the other side of his bed, grabbing the pair of pants that his partner had just recently slipped from his waist.

There stood Parker in his Spiderman pajamas, holding the doorknob and staring at the two of them.

"Eh, hey Park…" Booth rattled, running his fingers through his hair and feeling the sheer embarrassment rise in the form of a hot blush across his cheeks. He chuckled nervously. "Haha, Daddy was just…"

" – about to have intercourse with me."

"BONES." Booth's head whipped around to stare at the side of his partner's face. She turned to look at him, her expression almost as confused as his son's.

"What? I'm only being honest." She mused. "The average parent gives their child something called 'the talk' at some point or another, correct?"

"Daddy, why were you naked wrestling with Doctor Bones in the dark?" Parker queried, taking his hand off the doorknob.

"Hold on, Parker." Booth replied quickly, not taking his eyes off of his partner. "Yeah, Bones, but he's six. How do I explain sex to a six-year-old?" He whispered.

"What's 'sex'?"

"Parker! Daddy's TALKING!"

"Well, why don't you use the 'wasps and hawks' metaphor, then? I've heard it's an effective representation of sexual intercourse."

"Birds and the bees, Bones."

"I don't know what that means."

"No, it's called the – you know what, never mind."

There was silence for a moment.

"Daddy, what does sex mean?"

Bones turned to look at the boy, who had moved into the room.

"Well, Parker, it is a process where a male, such as your father, inserts his erect p –"

"Temperance."

She turned and noticed his grimace again, the sweet, innocent, 'I didn't say anything that wasn't true' look blossoming on her features.

Booth plastered an awkward smile across his face, returning his attention to his son.

"Parker, give Daddy a minute. Go watch TV or something while Doctor Bones and I talk." He suggested, which made the boy's face light up.

"YAY! I can stay up past my bedtime! Thanks, Daddy!" He cried, turning around and running out of the room as fast as little legs would carry him.

Booth's head fell against the pillow in an exasperated sigh, his partner soon curling up on his right side. She rested her head against his chest, and they lay there a minute, looking at the ceiling.

"So."

Brennan spoke after a long moment, Booth lifting his head to lock eyes with her.

She smiled.

"Would 'talk' be another term for us to resume hiding intercourse from Parker, or do you actually want to talk?"

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**Nexus: I don't normally comment on my own fics, but...I thought this was extremely hilarious. **

**Did you? Tell me what you think! :D I always appreciate reviews! Thanks for reading - the third chapter will be up before you know it!  
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	3. For Reasons Unknown, P1

**Title: The Small Strokes in the Big Picture**

**Author: NexustehULF0o

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**DISCLAIMER: BONES IS NOT OWNED BY ME. **

**I don't even own any of the seasons. All I own is two framed Bones photos, and one extremely HOT autographed picture of David Boreanaz. ;D

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**Nexus: SO I TOTALLY forgot to mention to you guys that THIS IS A COLLECTION OF ONESHOTS XD I have to change my summary accordingly. Sorry guys, my bad. Because ~Lfaba mentioned to me "Things seem to be moving a little fast here. ." And I was alerted to the fact that I never told you guys. So yes, it's a collection of oneshots, featuring Bones and Booth! Pre, during, and post timeline – not in any particular order! Anyway, here's your third chapter. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Three: For Reasons Unknown – Part One**

The Founding Fathers' door cautiously opened, a high-pitched 'ding' announcing a customer's entrance. Zack Addy stepped warily into the diner, glancing around as if searching for something. Only when he saw a familiar FBI agent wave at him did he straighten up and smile, waving once himself before moving across the crowded restaurant to his table.

Zack took a seat across from Agent Seeley Booth, adjusting his t-shirt accordingly before looking up at a waitress that had got his attention. The young anthropologist ordered a drink and then looked toward his accompaniment, who, strangely, had not taken his eyes off of him since he arrived.

"Hello, Agent Booth." Zack began sheepishly, looking to the floor before sliding his chair closer to the table. He managed a grin. "Where's Doctor Brennan?"

"She's…not coming?" Booth replied questioningly. "Why?"

"Well, I thought she was coming – I even mentioned it to her this morning and she nodded approvingly, as if she knew what I was talking about. She needed to be reminded of what time we were all supposed to meet here, but–"

"Gah, you told her about this?" Booth's mild annoyance was not only shown by his tone, but had clear look of disapproval on his face to match. Zack donned a perplexed expression, cocking his head a little.

"Well," He explained, shrugging defensively, "When you say 'meet me at the diner for lunch', I assume you mean you _and_ Doctor Brennan – I didn't know you didn't want her to know!"

Booth sighed heavily out his nose, glancing out the window momentarily. "All right, all right, that was my bad." He nodded before placing a few fingers to the bridge of his nose. "It's okay, we just gotta watch for her now, all right? If you see her coming, tell me. And after she comes in, you don't speak a word of this, understand? To anyone."

Zack watched the accusing finger Booth had pointed at him for a moment before locking eyes with the intimidating FBI agent.

He nodded solemnly.

Booth withdrew his finger to fold both hands on the table, looking out the window again before looking back at Zack.

"Actually…I just wanted to ask you a question." He began. He waited for Zack to reply, but when he didn't, Booth cracked his knuckles and started again.

"You're Bones' number-one squint, right? She…she tells you stuff." He affirmed, watching him regain Zack's attention as his drink was put in front of him, declining the offer for something to eat.

"Well, I wouldn't say that I'm her confidant – you would have to talk to Angela about that." Zack found the straw to his drink after speaking, taking a long, deep sip of his root beer.

"Yeah, yeah, I already thought about that." Booth shook his head, leaning back in his chair while running his fingers through his dark brown hair. "I can't talk about anything involving Bones to Angela without her getting the idea that I'm like, trying to set something up. I figure that she must tell you _some _things."

"Well, yes – sometimes." Zack nodded, moving his glass. "I would say that she mentions some things in passing…why do you ask?"

Booth rolled his eyes, beginning to get impatient.

"No reason. Just, look, all I need you to do is tell me about what Bones…likes to do." He told the young man matter-of-factly.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean." Zack's questioning look reminded Booth a bit of his partner's – a look that he was seeing less and less of lately.

But on Zack, it only annoyed him.

"Like…you know, what her hobbies are. What she does in her spare time. What kind of things…she likes." The agent elaborated in between sips of his own drink.

"Well…"Zack stopped a moment, biting his bottom lip. "She writes novels when she's not working at the Jeffersonian."

"Yeah..." Booth nodded.

"And…when she takes vacation time, it's normally to go excavate ancient remains…" he continued.

"Yeah…?"

"…and…she solves murders."

"Okay." Booth shook his head, annoyed at having to work with such socially inept people. Why couldn't he just…stick around his type? Maybe he could ask Hodgins to translate later… "Is there _anything _that Bones talks to you about that _I _wouldn't know about?"

Zack sat back in his chair for a moment, mulling the question over. He knew that Agent Booth was not very patient as well as a little easily aggravated. The young anthropologist watched the busy people outside the window go by for a moment, catching all of his thoughts.

"She often talks about guns. She's rather upset that you won't let her carry one. She mentioned to me on more than one occasion that she's a very good shot, and that you know that, based on how many times you've seen her fire one."

Booth cracked a smile in recognition of his partner's personality shining through.

"All right, getting closer." He motioned for him to continue with his hand. "Tell me more stuff like that."

"Hm…" Zack continued, taking a swig of root beer. "I overheard Doctor Brennan talking with Angela once. Angela was talking about clubs and bars and the music they play there. Doctor Brennan mentioned to Angela that she liked the driving beats of the songs that they play in those settings – I think she said that the pulse of the music was soothing, or relaxing, or something..."

"Awesome! All right, now we're getting somewhere, Zack! Anything else?" Booth's interested smile widened into a grin as he nodded approvingly. Zack smiled as well.

"Well…I'm really not good at inferences when it comes to psychology, but…Doctor Brennan often mentions the times after cases where you two come to this diner, or when you drink beer at each other's house." Zack explained, fiddling with his straw. "It would seem to me like Doctor Brennan really enjoys spending time with you, Agent Booth."

Booth's excited expression faded in the face of a thoughtful one. Zack's expression worsened as well.

"What? Was that not sufficient information, Agent Booth? Did you already know that?" He asked, leaning over the table.

Booth barely shook his head, a strange, yet pleased expression crossing his face. "No." he next-to breathed the reply. "Y-You really think Bones likes spending time with me?"

"Well, yes." Zack replied, nodding. "She speaks constantly of how you two drink and talk and have fun after cases. She mentioned too that she once made you macaroni and cheese, I think."

"Huh." Booth smiled faintly, stifling a chuckle.

Zack was quiet after that, observing his accompaniment while delving deep into thought.

"Oh! You both are already here." A voice chimed in, causing them both to jump a little out of their seats. Temperance Brennan stood at the head of their window-side table, smiling while simultaneously hoisting her purse onto her shoulder. "Sorry I'm late – Booth, you didn't tell me we were meeting at the diner today."

"Oh, Bones!" Her partner looked over, standing. "Really? I thought I did. Must've slipped my mind, I guess. Here, sit down." He offered her the seat by the window, the one adjacent to his. She gladly accepted, seating herself before the waitress came over and took her drink order.

"So," she turned to her graduate student, smiling. "Zack. Hodgins found particulates on the victim's clothing that match the carpeting in the sister's summer home, and –"

A low humming noise and Brennan's startled expression confirmed her text message's arrival, although she vocalized as much before digging into her purse.

"Ah, that'll be Angela with the results of the specific brand of knife the murder weapon could have been. Excuse me…"

Brennan lowered her head to begin her search, Booth stealing a glance to her before averting it to the man sitting across from him. He quickly raised his hand to his mouth, pulling his thumb and forefinger across his lips. He then gave Zack a questioning look as well as a thumbs-up gesture, which confused the young anthropologist even more.

Booth smacked his hand to his forehead, then whipped out a pen and proceeded scribbling down words on his napkin before passing it across the table.

_Not a word or I _will_ kill you. _

Zack gulped, then nodded sheepishly at the FBI Agent. _That _he understood.

"Hah," Brennan raised her head, Zack dragging the note underneath the table and stuffing it in his pocket just in time. "That was Hodgins again. He says that the sediment he found was – Zack, why do you look so pale all of a sudden?"

"Huh?" The young man replied, taking his eyes off of Agent Booth, who was taking a suspicious sip of his drink while staring him down. "Oh, I'm sorry – I've just remembered that I have an appointment with Doctor Sweets about my inability to comprehend the importance of irrational situations in ten minutes. If you'll please excuse me…" He nodded reassuringly before pulling money out of his back pocket, leaving it on the table, and withdrawing himself from the two with an abrupt goodbye.

"Hm…" Brennan turned to look at her partner, mildly confused. "I hope Zack's okay – his skin tone looked very pale and I could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead."

"Eh," Booth shrugged while sucking the last few drops of his drink from between the ice cubes. "You know Zack, always scurrying around somewhere or another – now…how about some pie…?"


	4. For Reasons Unknown, P2

**Title: The Small Strokes in the Big Picture**

**Author: NexustehULF0o**

**DISCLAIMER: EMILY DESCH

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ANEL AND DAVID BOREANAZ ARE NOT ON MY PAYROLL. Neither is anyone from Bones. THOUGH I WISH IT WERE TRUE.**

**Nexus: Here's Part two of "For Reasons Unknown"! XD LOL Zack's on the offensive this time, I promise. XD Enjoy!

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**Chapter Four: For Reasons Unknown – Part Two**

"Doctor Brennan."

She looked up from her office's computer screen at the mention of her name before locking eyes with Zack Addy, her graduate student.

"Yes, Zack?" She asked while realizing who it was and returning to her work.

Zack arched his back a bit, tapping his fingertips against the folder he held in his hand while rocking back on his heels for a moment.

"I've just completed categorizing the evidence and remains for the Davies murder." He mentioned, looking out the door to the Medico-Legal platform. "Everyone else has gone home, and it's getting late, so…"

"It's perfectly fine, Zack." Brennan glanced up at him. "You don't have to check in with me before you go home. Just make sure everything's put away."

"Yes, Doctor Brennan." Zack nodded, looking again to the door. "It's just that after I leave, apart from security…you'll be the last one here."

"Yes?" She stopped typing and looked up at him once more, waiting for him to continue.

"Well…Agent Booth tells me that when you're left alone, you tend to 'get yourself into trouble' – which I don't understand. Why anyone would willingly get themselves into – "

" – a hazardous situation, I'll never know." She finished with him simultaneously, smiling at the young man. "Booth's mind works very oddly, I'll admit. But there's no need to worry, I'll be fine by myself."

"Are you positive?" He asked, placing the folder he had in his hands on her desk. "I've been told before that I keep very good company – I tend to be very amiable when it comes to minimal verbal association. Also, Hodgins went on a date with Angela, and I have to take a taxi home…"

"By all means, Zack, I'll drive you home. There's no need to take a cab. Sit down – I'll be finished in a moment." Brennan offered, gesturing to the couch before standing from her swivel chair to file a book on the shelf behind her.

Zack smirked, turning around to sit on the couch she'd just motioned toward.

"Thank you." He replied, nodding her direction.

Zack stared about the large office, taking notice of artifacts of varying age and style dotting the room. He folded his hands in his lap, placing the bag on his back next to him.

"So, I think I might have found the cause of death," He began after a short period of stale silence, causing the woman to momentarily glance back at him.

"That's brilliant, Zack!" She exclaimed, smiling before finishing pushing the book onto the high shelf. "Tell me, what does it entail?"

"Upon my first look at the jagged edges of the stab wounds around ribs four and five," he looked at his shoes for a moment. "I thought it might have been the common steak knife. But as I examined them further, I realized that the ridges were far too close together as well as far too blunt to be a steak knife. I also noticed that the top of the rib bones were fairly undamaged. It was then that I realized that the only thing that had that small of ridges and leave the top of the bone remotely unscathed would be if someone unhinged a wrench and used it to stab the victim."

"Excellent, Zack!" Brennan praised him again, grinning. "I'll have to call Booth and tell him later."

"Yes…" Zack muttered, folding his hands after resting his arms on his knees.

There was awkward silence again as Zack fell deep into thought, listening to the faint jostling of Brennan assembling book on her shelf.

"Doctor Brennan." He began, catching her attention again. She looked back at him, a questioning look crossing her face. He waited for a moment to see if she would respond verbally, but when she didn't, he cleared his throat and continued on.

"Are you…sexually attracted to Agent Booth?"

This question caused her to stop what she was doing, slowly turning around to face her colleague.

"Booth says that you are supposed to, as he put it, 'ease in' to situations that one might find uncomfortable in a social setting." She recited almost robotically, tapping a stack of papers on her desktop to straighten them.

"I had no intention of making you uncomfortable. I was simply curious about the fact that you –" The young adult stammered, fiddling with his hands awkwardly while glancing in between them and Brennan.

"No, no, Zack. You weren't aware – I understand." She smiled reassuringly, nodding. "And frankly, I don't understand the point– minding another person's feelings in a murder case just puts one further away from the truth. "

"Right." He agreed.

"Booth also tells me that I shouldn't 'boast' about my qualifications when working with the FBI either. He says that they know that I'm the best in my field and I don't need to remind them. But the question I have is that if they know that I'm the best in my field, then why do they act like I'm some kind of outsider whenever I step onto a crime scene? It just seems to me like –"

"Doctor Brennan, I don't see the relevance in you telling me this." Zack interrupted.

An awkward silence erupted between the two, Zack locking eyes with the woman across from him. Brennan, a light, almost unnoticeable blush tinting her cheeks, was the first to look away, stealing a glance to her computer screen.

"Well," She began, knowing full well that she was forced to answer the uncomfortable question now. "There is a certain quality to Booth's anatomical structure that I find appealing, yes."

Zack was quiet for a moment, biting his bottom lip.

"It's not just that, is it? It's more than _physical _attraction." He questioned.

"You know I hate psychology." She replied quickly, piling a group of folders together before putting them into an over-the-shoulder bag.

"I'm not trying to probe you." Zack reassured, running a hand through his hair.

"Booth and I are partners." Brennan turned to switch her computer monitor off, glancing to the young anthropologist while speaking.

"On paper." Zack stood from the couch, dangling his hands at his sides. "And I may not be a psychologist, but the way you look at each other, the way you two act at the diner…that does not feel like the definition of what a platonic partnership is. Doctor Brennan, you are in love with Agent Booth."

Temperance Brennan instantly stopped what she was doing and looked up at the young man, who was breathless at the sudden outburst of emotion.

"Um…" He stammered, reverting. "I didn't mean to yell…I…"

Her stare softened and she smiled a little.

"Why are you asking me all of this?" She queried, hanging her bag over her shoulder.

Zack, looking to follow her, grabbed his bag and slung it over his back. Meeting her at the door.

Brennan watched him for a moment, searching for his reasoning. He was

"This has to do with Naomi from Paleontology." She stated jokingly, smiling wider when the young man reddened furiously.

"I've recently been conducting a study of you and Agent Booth…if I can mimic your relationship, I think I can rectify the problems in ours." He explained, stammering while following her out the office door. "I have a considerably steep learning curve. I'll be able to examine you two, and –"

"That's very constructive of you, Zack. But as I said before, Booth and I are just partners."

"If I implement the techniques I observe from Booth toward you in my conversations with Naomi, do you think that I can win her back…?"

"Zack!"

"What?"


	5. Of Novels, Head Injuries, &Pinch Runners

**Title: The Small Strokes in the Big Picture**

**Author: NexustehULF0o

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**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BONES. However, Bones will own ME come September 23****rd****.

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**Nexus: Still attempting to fill this hole in my chest that aches every Thursday at eight…maybe since school is starting, my mind will be at ease…at least a little. Anyway, enjoy chapter five!

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**Chapter Five: Of Novels, Head Injuries, and Pinch Runners**

"I still don't understand why you dragged me here."

A light afternoon breeze swayed the leaves of trees towering over the baseball field's bleacher seats, some of the older, redder ones rising into the air to land a few feet away. The blue sky was home to few clouds this particular autumn afternoon, leaving the sun to shine brightly with little disruption.

A young woman seated herself on the highest tear of bleachers, shaded by one of the more plumed trees. She crossed one leg over the other, looking to her partner as he smirked cockily at her.

"Well, some guys at the office offered to play some baseball this weekend - and I accepted, that's all." He replied, grinning and adjusting his bag strap across his chest. His female accompaniment didn't appear to buy it – instead, she donned a confused look and glanced in between him and the incoming men that had just recently begun arriving.

"Then why did you call me saying that you had vital information concerning a case?" She asked, not amused.

"Aw, c'mon, Bones – you need to get out with the people once in a while…you can't stay cooped up with your bodies forever." He replied jokingly, playfully pushing her leg.

Temperance Brennan uncrossed her legs before rolling her eyes and folding her arms, a smirk tugging at either corner of her mouth.

"I was planning on taking the day to finish my novel, Booth." She retorted, "You can't just have my attention whenever you feel like it."

"Ah, ahaha." He chuckled, pointing a finger at her. "Yeah, you _say _that, but you're really thinking about how much you'd like to see me smack one outta the park like Mark McGuire, eh?" He swung his hands like he was holding a bat. Brennan's confused expression only worsened in the face of his comment.

"I don't know what that means." She shook her head, her fingertips gripping the end of the seat.

"Famous baseball player, Bones?" He explained. "Yankees slugger?"

"I don't see what cephalopods have to do with this, but one of your colleagues is calling you." She pointed to a man about Booth's age that was calling for him and waving him over from across the field.

Booth waved back before returning his eyes to his partner.

"You'll be okay here, right?" He asked, all playfulness draining from his face. She huffed.

"Please. I mean, I can't leave – you have the keys."

"Pfft, it's not like you didn't bring your laptop _with _you. If you get bored, then by all means…" He gestured to the portable computer sitting right next to her.

Brennan grimaced and remained silent, her argument rendered invalid. Her partner smirked devilishly and raised an eyebrow at her before being called over by the crowd of men waiting for him. He said goodbye and jogged onto the field, moving over into one of the dugouts and dropping his things.

Brennan's forehead crinkled. She wasn't about to let Booth's little idea of fun get in the way of her finishing her novel on schedule.

With that, she opened her laptop, pressing a few buttons before the screen blurred into her typed manuscript. The anthropologist heaved out a quick sigh before resting her back against the chain-link fencing behind her, then placing her fingers to the keys and warming into the first sentence…

_I peered around the corner into the dark living room, steak knife clutched in my sweaty, shaking palm._

"_Birdie?" I called to my cat. The words were garbled trash in my throat. _

_Silence._

_Suddenly, I heard soft creaking against the floor – I held my breath until I could hear them no longer._

"_Bird…?" I called again, this time louder and clearer. _

_Again, no answer. _

_Then –_

DING!

The loud sound caused Brennan to jump and then immediately clutch the laptop that had begun to slide off of her lap. The anthropologist glanced up to see one of the men running towards a white bag while another chased after a small white ball in the right corner of the field.

For a moment, she wondered why, only to shake her head and return to her document again.

_Then something warm touched my shoulder, causing my muscles to tense and the small hairs on the back of my neck to bristle, similar to the ends of a toothbrush. Dare I turn around to reveal who it was? I readied my knife just in case. _

Get a hold of yourself, Kathy._ I thought violently, futilely attempting to relax my nerves. _If it was the same person who had killed all of those people, you'd have been dead by now.

_To no avail, the apprehension would not dissipate. _

_Slowly, warily, I turned around to face the stranger – I gasped, horrified at the result. _

_It was – _

A whistle broke her out of her thoughts once more. She looked up to watch the men, brown mitten-like sleeves covering one hand as they took a certain position on the field. She scanned the area for her partner, soon realizing that he was preoccupied in throwing the small white ball to the person hitting it.

DING!

The man with the metal bat swung at the ball, sending it flying back at Booth.

Though, instead of cringing away from the ball, which seemed to be natural instinct – Booth reacted, tossing his gloved hand in front of the ball to catch it.

The men hooted and hollered at both batter and Booth as the batter walked off the field, dejected.

Brennan couldn't help but clap. It took stellar reflexes to be able to think to put his hand out. Booth must be more physically fit than she ever could have imagined – not that she doubted it for a second…

Brennan sat there momentarily, blindly watching the game in front of her as she tapped her fingers lightly against the keyboard keys.

Her mind snapped back to full attention at the changing of her screen to its screensaver. Booth's team was heading in to their little covered bench area and the other team was heading out onto the field.

She didn't even understand what was going on – what was so enticing about a game where one hits balls with a bat and runs around bases? It seemed rudimentary – _this _was fun? She'd much rather be examining remains or working on her novel…

She turned and looked at the laptop in her lap.

…Then why was she paying such close attention? Then why _wasn't _she working on her novel?

The men whistled as Booth walked out of the sitting area with a baseball bat.

"No-hitter, no-hitter. Move in!" One of the men in the field jeered, smirking at his teammates.

"Can it, Wilkins!" Booth called as he took his place in front of a man who was wearing a padded chest plate, shin guards, and a mask. Raising the bat behind him, Booth knelt into a ready position, watching the man on a small hill in the middle of the field.

The man on the small hill reared back, then throwing the ball with all of his might toward the padded man's glove.

Booth leaned back and swung the bat hard, attempting to hit the ball.

Brennan's heart caught in her throat.

She noticed soon after that Booth had swung too late, thus missing it by inches. The ball was caught in the padded player's glove, and he returned it to the man on the mound soon after.

"STRIKE ONE!" a masked man behind the man on the hill called out with a flamboyant hand gesture.

Strike one. That was bad, wasn't it?

The man on the hill leaned back again and shot the ball at Booth, who swung and missed a second time.

"STRIKE TWO!" the masked man behind the dirt mound called out again.

That must have been even worse, because now Booth's teammates were cheering for him.

"C'mon, Booth! Use your head!"

"You can do it, man! Focus!"

Brennan felt compelled to say something just then. Putting her laptop down beside her on the bleacher seats, she stood, cupping her hands around her mouth.

"Come on, Booth!" She yelled to him. "Smack the ball like Matt McGuire! Be a Yankees slug!"

When Booth heard this, he loosened his stance and turned around, looking at her.

"Yankess slug_ger, _Bones!" He cried out, "Slug_ge -"_

Unbeknownst to both of them, the pitcher wasn't paying attention to their conversation, and threw the baseball, which soared through the air until it smacked Booth right on the side of the head.

The FBI Agent went down pretty easily, hitting the ground with an abrupt _flop_. Brennan gasped and covered her mouth, hopping off the bleachers and running onto the field. The other players jogged toward home plate and began gathering around him as well.

Brennan knelt down and shook her partner's body, a panicked "Booth!" escaping her lips.

Booth's eyes rolled open, and he looked over at her, his face cracking into a wide smile.

"Oh, hey, Bones." He nodded before cringing. "Ow! Ugh, my head hurts…"

Brennan gently felt along her partner's skull, checking his head for any signs of a fracture. Everything seemed intact upon initial inspection, but she would need to examine his head further to be sure.

"Booth, I need to examine your head for injuries. I think you should go home." She suggested, looking up at the other players that had circled the injured Booth. Most nodded in agreement.

"We could probably just have a pinch runner stand in for him." One mentioned.

"I don't know what that means." She shook her head, looking at Booth who had moaned under his breath and rolled over on the ground.

Most of the players then realized what Booth meant when he talked about his partner's social ineptitude.

With that, some of the FBI agents helped Booth to his car, where Brennan searched his pockets and fumbled with the keys to open the door. They propped him up in the passenger seat and waited for Brennan to return with her laptop in hand.

"I'm sorry to ruin your game." She mumbled to the men after she shut the driver's side door and rolled down the window.

"Aw, it's all right. You didn't ruin it." One of the men reassured her. "We can do without him. Besides, the way he talks about you, I think he'd rather be hanging with you anyway."

"I can see why." One of the men leaned over and whispered to another, causing all of the present players to chuckle.

Brennan managed a smile and backed her way out of the parking lot, raising her hand in one last wave as they drove away.

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_It was Ryan._

"_Jesus Christ, Andrew!" I cried out, lowering the knife from its poised position in my hand. "You scared me half to death!" _

_Ryan smiled, his features lightened by a flash of lightning prickling through the dark sky. _

"_I knocked once," He explained, motioning to the door. "But you didn't answer and it was getting really bad out there." _

_It was then that Birdie decided to answer my call, wrapping his tail around my ankles and rubbing his lithe, furry body up against my legs._

_I pressed a hand to my heart, looking to calm myself from the nerve-wracking events that had happened in a split second. _

Think about how easily the real killer could have snuck up on you. _I thought, shaking my head. _You even left the door unlocked. Stupid!

_Just then, something flung past my ear. _

_The smirk fled from Ryan's face and he turned, slowly recognizing the new attachment sticking out of him. _

_My heart leapt into my throat – there was now a knife protruding from his shoulder. _

_Before I could stop him, he'd ripped the knife out, blood – _

Booth's moan from on the couch caused Brennan to look up from her laptop screen.

She watched the FBI agent grab for his head and squint in the light of the room, rolling over to face her.

"Bones…" he muttered.

She put her laptop on the end table and smiled for her partner, standing from her chair and kneeling over him.

"Oooh, Booth, be careful." She warned, placing a hand to his temple. "You were hit very hard by a ball. I drove you home."

He grunted in reply, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Your skull is not fractured, although you were his pretty hard. I would expect severe bruising to occur over the next few days." She explained.

"Ice." He mumbled.

"What?"

"Ice!" He groaned louder, pointing to the kitchen. "In a Ziploc bag! Please!"

She stood and stepped into the kitchen, hurriedly put ice in a sandwich bag, then handed it to him.

"Thank you." He nodded minutely, and then placed the bag to the side of his head. Brennan slowly crossed her legs and sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the couch while heaving a heavy sigh.

There was a moment of silence before Booth shifted his weight and pulled the TV remote from underneath him, switching on the television set before flipping the channel to a professional baseball game. He turned the volume down after he cringed at the pain drumming in his ears, but he quickly situated himself with one ear resting on a couch pillow and the other topped with ice.

Silence ensued for another long moment omit the hum of the crowd in the stadium and the announcers' ramblings.

"So…" Brennan turned and looked at Booth, a confused look passing her face. "What is a 'pinch runner'?"

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**Nexus: It took me a long time to get back into this. For some reason I just got back into writing all of a sudden. Anyway, reviews are appreciated! :3 Thanks for reading!**


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